“You’re one fine fuck, lady. What’s your name?”“Corrie,” I replied. “If ever you want a good fucking again, ...orrie, ringme.”He wrote his number on a piece of paper and put it inmy bag, then he left. When I finally recovered my wits,I made myself decent and drove home. In the bath, Ivowed never to ring him. Two days later, I dug the scrap of paper out of thebin. Shaking, I dialled. A deep voice answered.“Paul, its Corrie.”“Come. We managed to make it to Ohio after burglarizing an old man in a small town near the prison. His body was probably still lying in the middle of his living room floor. We took his keys and started out on our way west.It would be hours or maybe days before someone reported the old man missing, but the guards at the prison would know we’ve escaped by the time the sun came up.We ran out gas in Ohio, somewhere outside of Cleveland. It was my turn to dispose of my prison suit; I discarded it into the. More

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